Cell Mates
by Isabella Uke
Summary: When Punk Rocket is dragged off to jail, the one man he never wants to see again just happens to be his cell mate. YAOI WARNING, Noncon and references to previous nonsense yaoi as well...


'It's man devouring man, my dear, and who are we to deny it in here?…'

-Sweeney Todd, 'A Little Priest'

Thomas snarled and cursed at the man who was shoving him roughly down the damp and rank hallway, wishing to whatever god there might be that he had his guitar and was out of the hell hole they'd drug him into. While he verbally damned the guard and the entire prison, he mentally dammed the Titans who'd taken him down. Honestly, all it took was a couple of girls and three idiots to give him the reputation of a pussy through the entire jail. Admittedly, it had been a rather short farce, still, he was tired of the rude and often obscene words yelled at him from the other inmates. The entire experience was enough to make him nauseous, and that was saying something.

The buff man who held his arms jerked his handcuffs brutally, sending him smashing up against one of the cell's bars with a loud clang. 'I think you'll like it here,' he man whispered sarcastically in Punk's ear. The boy tilted his head away from the man, rolling his eyes. 'Honestly, do we 'ave to do this bit every single time you dump me here?' he slurred, head beginning to hurt from the pressure of the bars. The man fumbled with a pair of keys, coughing out a grating laugh. 'I'd think you'd be a little bit nicer, since we've gotten a friend for you to spend your time with while you're at our lovely establishment,' the man quipped back before kicking the boy harshly in the back of the leg so that he was forced to kneel in front of the cells entrance. He removed the boy's handcuffs before continuing, causing Thomas to hiss as the sores on his wrists were reopened. 'I do believe you know him,' he said, and with an air of satisfaction he shoved the boy forward into the cage, sending his face down to grind on the floor.

Punk snarled in disbelief at the unfairness of it all, and stood up in retaliation only to have the door slammed into his face. As he watched the guard walk off, whistling, he snorted in disgust. At the moment he was too concerned with revenge to notice his surroundings. Instead, he took the starched orange sleeves of his new uniform and tore them at the shoulder with a satisfying rip before using what was left to tie around his bleeding wrists. 'Bastards couldn't even let me keep my old—'

Punk stopped short as a heavy hand landed on his shoulder, gripping hard. His blood ran cold all at once, because the situation was oddly familiar. The guard's words rang out vividly in his ears. 'A friend of mine..' he thought with a hint of dread, for the only man he was even close to being friends with was probably miles away having tea somewhere. His eyes wandered warily down to the fingernails of his unknown companion, and instantly understood who it was. The nails had been painted black but had since begun to chip and turn a nasty grey.

'Johnny,' he answered himself flatly, knowing what would come next.

The hand moved to his hair and jerked him backwards, beginning to drag him over to the only sink in the cell before smashing his face down roughly onto the porcelain. Thomas could feel his lip split open and blood begin to roll down his chin, dripping a vibrant ruby onto the clean white surface of the sink.

'Funny you remember me now,' Johnny snarled, before forcing Punk around to face him. 'Because when I was caught for something we both did,' he said slowly, leaning in, 'you seemed to have forgotten me.' Without a second thought he drew back his free hand and punched the smaller man across the face, letting go of his hair and sending him skidding on the floor. Punk cursed loudly in his mind, but he didn't speak for fear that his entire face would shatter. His eye felt as though it was already beginning to swell, and his nose began to ooze red liquid freely. He was certainly a sight, but it wasn't the first time his face had been smashed to pieces. Still, that didn't make it feel any better the second time. Or the third, and now the fourth.

He backed up against the wall, boots skidding on the damp floor, but he didn't dare stand. 'C'mon, Johnny, s'not like youd've waited for me,' he said, spitting out a mouthful of blood. Johnny paused as though he hadn't considered this at all, and being rather thick, he probably hadn't. Finally he advanced forward, cracking his knuckles threateningly. Punk tensed and drew himself up off the floor. He was half of Johnny's size, but he'd taken down bigger. With his guitar. Still, if he was going to go out, it was going to be with a disgusting fight, and him cheating the entire time.

Johnny threw back his head and laughed, hair streaming down his back. 'Going to take me out?' he said, stopping the laughter abruptly. He then spread his arms far out, exposing his chest. 'Come on then, let's see it!' he called, backing up. Punk spat once more, not taking his eyes off the larger man. The scene was an awful lot like watching a brother fight his older brother, considering how small he was in proportion to Johnny.

After a moment of hesitation he started forward at an alarming pace, meaning to catch the man in the mouth with his knuckles, but he got nowhere. Johnny ducked and grabbed the boy around his midsection, throwing him over his shoulder as if he was a package and proceeding to carry him across the room. Punk growled and kicked, only to have his legs grabbed and made immobile. 'You…bastard!' he panted, 'is this how you dirty Americans fight?' he challenged, although Johnny tactics were about as clean is his would have been.

'Yeah.' Johnny grunted bluntly before dumping Punk onto the lower bunk bed, causing the springs to groan. Punk immediately began to squirm and struggle to get up, but his attempts were quickly thwarted by a large boot in the middle of his chest pinning him down.

He continued to twist as the larger man leaned back and began to slowly peel of his own filthy white shirt, for he had long ago ditched his awful orange apparel. Thomas watched as a drop of sweat rolled from Johnny's neck down his broad, grey chest and felt his throat grow dry. The room grew unbearably hot. 'W-what the hell are you playing at?' Punk said, ashamed that he could hear his voice rise in pitch. He was beginning to get nervous.

'Just finishing what you started,' Johnny answered, and calmly replaced the leg holding Punk down with his entire lower half, knees on either side of the boy. When he leaned all the way over the smaller man he put a hand on his chest, feeling it rise up and down rapidly in panic.

'I told you, I was just screwing off, it didn't mean anything!' Punk halfway yelled. 'I'd had a few too many!'

Johnny couldn't have cared less. He tightened the gap between his knees and Punk's body, holding the boy tighter. With an air of amusement he dropped his head until his hair brushed the boy's face slightly, watching Thomas recoil. 'Didn't say it meant anything,' he slurred, taking a fistful of Punk's hair and tugging his face up. 'Just said I was finishing it.'

He brought his lips down roughly to Punk's mouth, feeling him balk and then relax as he gripped his neck threateningly. After a few moment of heavy petting and just enjoying the feeling of a warm and unwilling mouth against his own, it became clear that Thomas had no intention of letting him into his mouth. Johnny smiled against the boy's lips, then slid his hand down coaxingly to the boy's lower stomach, causing him to tense but not relent. Then, with obvious experience, the hulking grey beast … cupped Punk in between the legs suddenly and not too gently, causing the younger man to writhe and gasp. Satisfied, Johnny slipped his tongue in quickly, tasting alcohol an something strange on his new found prey. As he swiped his mouth against Punk's again and again and again, he tried to place the taste, but couldn't. Thomas had closed his eyes in spite of himself, and had began to slide his hands along Johnny's lower back. The rocker was only human, after all, even though as Johnny began to kiss and bite along his jaw he felt like so much more than that.

The pace soon quickened, and Johnny tore off the buttons of Punk's uniform with his teeth, beginning to feel more and more like a creature in heat. It was almost so satisfying just to run his face along Punk's tanned and flat chest and inhale deeply that he didn't need to press any further.

Almost.

Punk rubbed a hand through Johnny's hair, head tilted back and mouth partially open. Johnny rubbed his face against the skin of his neck and bit one of his nipples in a feral manner.

'S-stop!' Punk gasped, tensing at the uncomfortable feeling it sent from his chest to his groin. Johnny snorted and moved his mouth over Punk's once more, allowing his fingers to toy with the hurt area while the boy squirmed. Then all of the sudden, he placed the taste. Tea?

'You pathetic bastard!' he said, with obvious enjoyment in his voice. He tore off the button on Punk's pants, allowing his hands access to the thin underwear the kid was wearing. 'Wot?' Punk slurred, trying to sit up, but thwarted by a firm shove from Johnny. 'Would no one else touch you?' Johnny growled, hand closing around Thomas' aching need. Punk arched his back and cried out as the older man gave it a few rough jerks. 'What the hell are you on about?' he cried, voice desperate.

Johnny ignored him for a second while letting his tongue dip in his navel, and then an inch lower, and another, until Punk was nearly clawing at his head to force him all the way.

'You've been to see him again,' Johnny answered, so late that it seemed like a separate conversation. Punk paused, confused, until it clicked. His face felt like it was one fire as he blushed. 'Shut up,' he answered. 'Then get on all fours,' Johnny replied.

Punk stopped dead. 'No!' he cried, looking pissed.

Johnny pulled a hurt face, but managed to make his eyes look cold in the process. 'C'mon, I promise I'll be gentle,' he purred, hand stroking Punk's throbbing need lightly now, 'I know you're used to something much smaller, so I'll—'

Punk brought his knee up to meet the man's face, sending him backwards with a nasty crack. 'Shut up!' he snarled, sliding back on the bed, knowing all too well that Johnny was going to lash back in some way. When the man sat up, his face was a mess of blood, and he spat a mouthful of it onto the floor before turning his attention to Thomas. 'That's it, you little bastard,' he snarled, before grabbing Punk's hair and twisting the it until the boy cried out and moved with his hand to avoid the pain. He didn't stop until he had the boy on his said, and then forced him all the way onto his stomach. Using just his hands he started tearing at the boy's remaining clothes until they ripped all the way off, then sent his underwear to his knees. He tugged his own boxers down ferociously, exposing his massive hard on, which was a size that would have qualified as inhuman in many people's eyes. Punk, of course, could not see it, but had seen it before, hence the halfhearted sobbing he was doing into the starched and rough jail pillow.

Johnny had lost any patience he had had for the boy before, so stretching of any sort was out of the question, and since there was no lubricant to be found he settled for a rather disgusting spit shine on his own member, considering he didn't want to /maim/ the boy, just hurt him enough to scar him for life.

'Spread your legs,' he commanded, beginning to feel ravenous. Punk said nothing, only shuddered and refused to move.

'Spread them, or I'll tear you wide open!' Johnny snarled, eyes flashing dangerously. Punk had the sense to do so, although not without cursing loudly in a wavering voice into the pillow once more. Without taking much time to properly position himself, the grey man slid forward, letting Thomas feel the huge head of his member press roughly against his entrance, moving slightly in. He could hear the boy gasp and then hold his breath, feeling him tense. It was going to hurt like hell.

He slid his hands onto Punk's bony hips and began to slowly force his way in, head tossed back in pleasure at the shockingly warm and almost painfully tight sensation. Punk quit whimpering altogether and began to cry out in a mixture of horrified pleasure and intense pain, nails digging so far into his own hands that they began to bleed. It felt as though he was getting ripped in half by something heated to an incredible temperature.

The smell of blood became so potent in the room when Johnny was fully in that it sent his head swimming, and he could've orgasmed on the spot, but didn't. He wouldn't let the man off that easy. His thrusts started out at a feverish pace and didn't slow down, pulling himself almost all the way out and slamming back in with teeth rattling force. Thomas was beyond words, although his mouth was open in an almost constant silent cry, eyes shut so tight that he could see stars. Pleasure racked his body like hot waves from the ocean, but the waves were riddled with pain so intense that it almost ebbed them. Johnny seemed intent on going as long as he possibly could, and had began to make feral growling noises, chest heaving and sweat rolling down his body.

Finally, after what seemed like hours to Punk and minutes to Johnny, the hulking man released with a satisfied cry, filling the younger man with burning liquid. Punk followed suit, managing to pull of an orgasm, if unenthusiastically. He could feel his own cum ooze warm against his stomach as Johnny pulled out slowly. When the man was fully dislodged, Thomas couldn't help but collapse into the sheets, exhausted. He let the grey figure lay beside him and pull him close, Johnny's loud panting keeping him from the sleep he wanted. When they'd both calmed, and Johnny had released his grip on Punk, he leaned in closer to whisper into the kid's ear.

'Only three more months of this,' he purred, and then lay back, sated.

Err…so that's the end of it, I don't plan to make this one a two shot. I might add that I magically made Johnny's pants disappear. Yes, I am aware of this…so please don't bother telling me.


End file.
